


my pride will be the death of me

by progressivestupidity (octolingkiera)



Series: you are not a human being (iz species swap) [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Light Angst, Species Swap, gir is mentioned but doesn't show up, zim has trust issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27245740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octolingkiera/pseuds/progressivestupidity
Summary: prompt: proudSo maybe he’s too proud to accept help. So what? He usually doesn’t even need it. Besides, no one ever offers their help without expecting something in return. He knows that very well by this point.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), GIR & Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: you are not a human being (iz species swap) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913941
Kudos: 20





	my pride will be the death of me

**Author's Note:**

> i was gonna post this sooner but i left the draft expire oops
> 
> zim's about 13 here. set several months after dib arrives, probably mid to late in the school year.

So maybe he’s too proud to accept help. So what? He usually doesn’t even need it. Besides, no one ever offers their help without expecting something in return. He knows that very well by this point.

“C’mon. It won’t even take very long with both of us doing it.”

Zim narrows his eyes at Dib’s offered hand. The Irken is smiling—it’s a bit stiff—and Zim doesn’t trust it one bit. He’s seen this tactic before, fallen for it before, and he refuses to take the gesture at face value. Fool me twice…

“Nonsense. I don’t require assistance.” He sniffs and turns his head, sticking his nose in the air.

“Don’t you have to pick Gir up after school?” Dib asks, still holding his hand out.

Zim bites his lip and crosses his arms. He hates that Dib is familiar enough with his schedule to call him out like this. “I’ll just have to bring him here. It’s fine.”

Dib opens his mouth and shuts it again a moment later. His brow furrows. “Don’t humans have parental units that do that sort of thing.”

“Not everyone,” Zim mumbles. His eyes look far away and he chews on his lip, lost in thought.

Dib looks at the wreck of the cafeteria and sighs. He can’t help but feel partially responsible for this. It wasn’t his proudest moment, freaking out over the gruel the school had the audacity to call food, but he wasn’t the one that started the food fight. He didn’t _mean_ to fling his spoonful of beans onto another student, and it just wasn’t fair that Zim was blamed for the incident and tasked with cleaning it up. As far as Dib knows, Zim was huddled under his lunch table until the very end of the fight when Ms. Bitters finally came in to break it up.

“How about this,” he begins, trying to work out a compromise. “Once school lets out, you can go get Gir. I’ll get started while you’re gone, and when you get back, you can take over. You can even take all the credit for the cleanup!” Dib gives what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

Zim is still skeptical. He ponders the offer for a minute before he decides to just bite the bullet and ask. “What’s the catch?”

“Catch? But there’s nothing here to catch?”

Zim gives a long suffering sigh. Sometimes talking to Dib is like trying to talk to a much younger Gir. “Human phrase that means _what’s your ulterior motive_.”

“Ulterior motive?” Dib blinks. “I can’t want to just because?”

“No one’s that nice. Let’s just cut to the chase and get this over with.” Zim glares at Dib with a sort of resigned anger that Dib realizes he relates to a little too well.

“I don’t—”

“Bullshit! Everyone always wants something. Spit it out already.” Dib gives Zim such a doe-eyed look of confusion—whether for lack of response or the idiom—it makes him want tear his hair out. He settles for pushing his fingers into his temples to assuage the coming headache. “Lemme say this in a way your stinky, dumb alien brain can understand: what do you get out of helping me? And don’t even _try_ to tell me that you _want_ to stick around and clean up this filthy hellscape. You’re dumb but you’re not a moron.”

Dib gapes a bit at the backhanded compliment as he fishes for something to say. Eventually, he settles for a partial truth that may satisfy the boy, despite how much Dib doesn’t want to say it. “I feel bad you have to clean this place by yourself, so I offered to help.” It feels needlessly blunt and a little mean, but by the way Zim nods thoughtfully, it seems to work.

“Easing your own guilt. I knew it.” Zim scoffs. “I don’t need your pity, but if you want to subject yourself to this disgusting task, do whatever you want. Just don’t get in my way.” He spins on his heel and starts off toward the door. “The bell will ring soon, so I’m going to wait for Gir. The sooner this place gets cleaned, the sooner I can go home and get away from his dirty place.”

Dib frowns at Zim’s back. There’s definitely something deeper to the boy than Dib initially assumed. He’s just gotta figure out what’s hiding underneath all those layers of confidence and pride.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it lemme know :3
> 
> [check me out on tumblr!](https://progressivestupidity.tumblr.com/)


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